CELESTIA - CHAPTER 54 : The Light
The labyrinth no longer breathed.
It was dying.
For hours, perhaps days, its stone entrails had echoed with screams, blades, explosions, and blood. Now, all that remained was an immense silence, heavy as a tomb.
The black corridors stretched endlessly before them.
Always the same walls.
Always the same arches.
Always the same shadows.
And yet, something had changed.
The air.
It was different.
Lighter.
Less oppressive.
As if the labyrinth itself had finally stopped holding its breath.
In some places, thin cracks ran through the stone, allowing streams of grayish light to seep through. A faint, almost sickly light, but one that belonged neither to the blue flames nor to the illusions of this place.
The light of the world.
The real one.
Yojuro walked at the front.
His steps remained steady despite the exhaustion weighing down every muscle in his body.
Resting on his shoulder was Zayn.
Unconscious.
His body wrapped in his friend's black jacket.
His silver hair fell across his pale face.
His lips were slightly parted.
His breathing remained weak but steady.
Around his wrist, Borealis still glowed.
Faintly.
Like a dying star refusing to disappear.
Behind them, Blanche followed in silence.
Her hands were still trembling.
Crystals of frost clung to her fingers like remnants of a battle she had not yet left behind.
Her eyes kept returning to Zayn.
She looked.
Looked away.
Then looked again.
As if making sure he was still there.
As if she feared he would vanish the moment she stopped watching him.
At last, she broke the silence.
— Will he wake up?
Yojuro did not slow down.
— Yes.
— Are you sure?
A brief silence.
— No.
Blanche clenched her jaw.
— You could at least lie.
No answer.
Only the sound of their footsteps splashing through dark puddles.
Only the distant echo of the wind.
Only exhaustion.
That immense exhaustion that settled in after every battle.
---
They walked for a long time.
Too long.
Time seemed to have lost all meaning within this maze.
Sometimes Blanche slowed down.
Sometimes she stopped.
Listened.
Watched the darkness behind them.
Part of her still expected a figure to emerge.
Kira.
Loyd.
An enemy.
A monster.
Something.
But there was nothing left.
Only silence.
The battles were over.
The victors kept moving forward.
The dead, meanwhile, remained behind.
Lying on the cold stone.
Abandoned within the heart of the labyrinth.
Their stories had ended there.
Their dreams as well.
Yojuro slightly raised his head.
— We're close.
Blanche blinked.
— How do you know?
— The air.
— The air?
— It's alive.
She took a deep breath.
This time, she felt it too.
The metallic scent of blood had disappeared.
The stagnant humidity was slowly fading.
Something was moving now.
A breeze.
A breath.
A promise.
So they continued.
A few more corridors.
A few more turns.
And then...
The light.
The real one.
Not the light of torches.
Not the light of artifacts.
Not the light of miracles.
A simple light.
An ordinary light.
A beautiful light.
The light of an overcast sky.
The ordinary light of an ordinary afternoon.
A light nobody notices until the day it disappears.
Blanche stopped abruptly.
Her eyes widened.
Before them stood a massive stone gate.
Open.
Beyond it stretched an abandoned courtyard.
Wild grass swayed beneath the wind.
A gray sky covered the horizon.
And the wind...
The wind was singing.
Free.
Untamed.
Alive.
Yojuro remained still for several seconds.
As though unable to cross that final boundary.
He did not look at the sky.
He looked at Zayn.
Then whispered:
— We made it out.
His voice was almost inaudible.
Blanche approached.
She placed a trembling hand on Zayn's shoulder.
For a second.
No longer than that.
Like a precious gesture she did not want anyone to see.
— He's alive.
— Yes.
— He'll have to remember that.
Yojuro slowly nodded.
Then they crossed the gate.
And behind them, the labyrinth vanished into darkness.
Like a nightmare that refused to be forgotten.
---
Back at the Academy
The Academy had never seemed so silent.
Not a peaceful silence.
Not a comforting silence.
A silence that belonged to the aftermath of war.
A silence where everyone counted the absent.
The hallways were nearly empty.
The classrooms deserted.
The laughter was gone.
Even the students seemed to walk more slowly.
As though the weight of the losses now rested upon every shoulder.
On the bulletin boards, new names had appeared.
The survivors.
And those who would never return.
Two lists.
Always the same.
Always cruel.
Always unfair.
Zayn was taken to the infirmary.
The room was white.
A white so intense it was almost aggressive.
The sheets.
The walls.
The light.
Everything seemed to belong to another world after the darkness of the labyrinth.
A nurse examined his heart.
Checked his wounds.
Studied the fluctuations of his blessed energy.
Her expression remained serious.
— His body is completely exhausted.
Blanche tensed.
— Will he make it?
The nurse remained silent for a few moments.
Then replied:
— Let him sleep.
It was not an answer.
And everyone knew it.
---
The hours passed.
Yojuro remained seated beside the bed.
Motionless.
Like a statue.
Blanche occupied the chair opposite him.
She did not read.
Did not speak.
Did nothing.
She simply waited.
Cynthia arrived first.
Her arm in a sling.
Her face covered in bruises.
Yet still standing tall.
She sat at the foot of the bed without saying a word.
Then Rodrigue arrived.
For once, his ball was not bouncing.
He simply held it under his arm.
Like a memory from a lighter time.
Haruto came next.
Hesitant.
Awkward.
He placed his hand on Zayn's forehead.
Confirmed he was warm.
Then left again.
Murata remained at the doorway.
Blind.
Yet able to hear every breath.
He stayed for several minutes.
Then bowed slightly before walking away.
Robin sat against the wall.
Aku poked his head through the doorway.
Saw how crowded the room was.
And quietly decided there was no space left for him.
Even Kai came to take a look.
Just a glance.
Then he left.
Only Akamaru never came.
And his absence was noticed.
---
Twelve hours later.
Zayn finally opened his eyes.
The world was blurry.
Slow.
Silent.
He stared at the white ceiling.
The white light.
The white sheets.
Then the memories began to return.
The battle.
Rex.
The labyrinth.
The pain.
The death.
He turned his head.
Yojuro was there.
Seated.
Arms crossed.
Eyes closed.
As if he had always been there.
As if he had never left that chair.
Zayn managed a faint smile.
— You carried me.
Yojuro opened one eye.
— Yes.
— Thank you.
— Don't do that again.
A dry laugh escaped Zayn.
Before immediately turning into a coughing fit.
— I can't promise that.
Blanche abruptly stood up.
Crossed the room.
And lightly punched him in the shoulder.
Not hard enough to hurt.
Just enough to express what she could not say.
— Never scare me like that again.
Zayn smiled weakly.
— I'll try.
— That's not good enough.
She returned to her seat.
Her cheeks slightly red.
No one commented.
Cynthia then reached out.
And squeezed Zayn's hand.
— Did you see Rex?
The smile disappeared.
— Yes.
— He's dead.
A silence.
Then:
— I know.
His voice nearly broke.
— I know...
The weight of that truth fell upon the entire room.
Rex.
The giant.
The comrade.
The rival.
The friend.
Gone forever.
No one found the words.
So no one spoke.
---
Rain began to fall outside.
Softly.
Then harder.
The droplets struck the windows with a soothing rhythm.
Like the slow beating of a heart.
Rodrigue picked up his ball.
Placed it on his lap.
And held it close.
Without playing.
Without smiling.
Simply present.
— Do you want us to stay? he asked.
Zayn looked around the room.
His friends.
His family.
Those who had survived.
Those who had suffered.
Those who had returned.
Yojuro.
Blanche.
Cynthia.
Rodrigue.
Robin.
Haruto.
All of them.
He felt something warming within his chest.
A warmth different from Borealis.
Different from power.
Different from victory.
Something more precious.
He smiled.
A real smile this time.
— Stay.
So they stayed.
The hours passed.
Night slowly descended upon the Academy.
Someone brought blankets.
Someone turned off the lights.
And while the rain sang beyond the windows, Zayn fell asleep once more.
Surrounded.
Protected.
Alive.
The labyrinth was far away now.
Sealed behind them.
Its darkness would remain forever etched into their memories.
Its dead would never return.
Never.
But the living were still here.
They were still breathing.
Still moving forward.
And sometimes...
After crossing through hell...
The light is enough.
And that is already a lot.